


Love Me Tonight

by non_tiembo_mala



Category: Captain America (Movies)
Genre: Blow Jobs, Bottom Steve Rogers, Captain America: The First Avenger, D/s undertones, Dirty Talk, Established Relationship, Frottage, M/M, Mild Feminization, Missing Scene, Post-Serum Steve Rogers, Stucky - Freeform, talk of switching
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-03
Updated: 2018-02-03
Packaged: 2019-03-09 11:16:51
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,242
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13480353
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/non_tiembo_mala/pseuds/non_tiembo_mala
Summary: Steve never even dared to hope that his troupe's Europe tour would give him the chance to earn a real fighting place in the war, much less rescue his best friend from behind enemy lines.Set before/after Steve's rescue of the 107th in Captain America: The First Avenger.





	Love Me Tonight

**Author's Note:**

  * For [jameee25](https://archiveofourown.org/users/jameee25/gifts).



> Tal, my darling, far away love of my life -- happy fuckin' birthday ❤️ 
> 
> My first time writing Stucky, and first time writing outside my comfortable, familiar, Supernatural fandom. I'm insanely late to the game, but Steve and Bucky are just so... *clutches heart* 
> 
> Beta'd by gluedwithgold and Dancing_Adrift. Thanks, darlings.
> 
> The title is from Nat King Cole's _For All We Know_.

The rain is altogether too fitting. 

Steve’s heart is heavy as he sits under the canvas of the stage tent, on the makeshift wooden steps just high enough to keep himself dry. The water is an unending barrage that only makes him think of all the bullets these men have lived through, and all the ones he’s never had a chance to face. 

Nothing is as it was supposed to be – as he'd _hoped_ it would be. The army took him but he’s not fighting, and he’s not with Bucky. He thought coming over here to Italy to perform for soldiers would make him feel closer to it all, but instead it’s made everything worse. He can’t relate to these men. They want nothing to do with him and he can’t even blame them. Being this close to the action and unable to do anything about it just makes Steve feel worse about the waste his life continues to be. And worst of all, thinking about Bucky hurts here more than ever. 

_Is he okay? Is he thinking of me, too? Where is he?_

Steve is torn between _please, God, don’t let him have seen me flopping around on stage_ and the desperate, lovesick thread of hope that just maybe, he had seen him – that he’s not so far from arm’s reach. Steve would embarrass himself a thousand times more if it meant he could see Bucky again, even for just a moment. 

Steve sighs, the thought making his heart clench and his stomach flutter the way it always does when he lets his mind linger on his best friend, and he takes his notebook out of the pocket of his trench coat. It’s filled with notes and love letters he’ll never send – could never risk sending – though he always intended to show Buck some time, after, when they’re together again. 

If. _If_ they’re ever together again. 

He flips through the pages slowly, letting his fingers drag over the words written in his scrawling cursive, hovering over the random sketches of Bucky he’s done from memory that are scattered throughout. They’re not the best he’s done, certainly. His notebooks at home are filled with renditions he’s proud of, moments he captured because Bucky was such a good sport, pausing when Steve said not to move – _the light is perfect!_ – and letting him draw. It hasn't been the same since they got seperated, but Steve can't stop, the familiar practice making him feel that little bit closer together despite everything.

He starts doodling mindlessly, a self portrait of sorts, and tries to keep his chin up even though inside he’s a mess, muddy and trampled as the ground outside. It’s got to be him. New York, Italy, pre-serum, after – it’s all the same. Surrounded by people and Steve is still invisible, still no one, not really. The only person who ever gave a damn is God only knows where, and Steve is alone. At least, before, he knew he was doing all he could, even if it was nothing but try. Now, he could be doing something – anything – but still, no one really sees him. 

Steve snorts derisively to himself as he adds the recognizable parts of his costume to the performing monkey on the page, and he wonders what Buck would think of him now. If he only knew. 

Through the steady onslaught of rain hammering the tarp above him, Steve hears the creak of wood boards and turns in surprise, having thought himself alone. Agent Carter is taking a step toward him, looking as elegant as ever despite the dismal downpour and drab backdrop of the camp. She smiles as she sees the shock bloom on Steve’s face. 

“Hello, Steve.”

\---

It feels better than anything he’s ever done, rescuing those men. He does things he hadn’t dreamed he’d be capable of, wonders how much more he can do – even manages subtle approval from Col. Phillips for all his trouble. But all of that hardly even matters because he did it – he found him. _Bucky_. 

He had feared him dead and truthfully that fed the fire that sent him on such a reckless mission in the first place. If Bucky really was gone, then…

But he’s not. Bucky is standing just behind him, close enough that they’re touching so even as people press in on them, Steve knows he’s there. Buck is the one who starts up the cheers and chants of his name, the ones that don’t seem to stop even as the crowd moves further into the camp, as celebration starts in earnest for the reunion of friends and brothers-in-arms, lives saved to fight another day, and hope they might make it home yet. 

Bucky is whisked away to get checked out by field medics and Steve retreats, as furtively as possible, from the near constant barrage of pats on the back to his private tent, the one he has because he came to this camp as a performer, not a soldier. It seems even less appropriate now that he should have such a luxury while the others are packed like sardines into their bunks, too warm, damp, and ripe with the smell of mud and unwashed men. Truthfully, though, Steve is glad for it now, in this pivotal moment. He’s not a performer anymore. From here on he’ll have a real role in this war, one where he can make a difference. The attention he’s taking respite from now is different from the kind he’s gotten used to over the last few months parading around on stage – no longer just the dancing monkey. It’s everything he’s wanted since the first moment the war broke out, but it’s even more than that, because Bucky is here with him. They’ll fight together, and as he is now, maybe, Steve can make sure Buck comes home with him, too. 

It’s a lot, all of a sudden, the adrenaline easing off, the realization of what he’s accomplished and, most importantly, how close he came to losing Buck forever. If he hadn’t been here, hadn’t gone looking– 

He chokes on a shaky breath and refuses to think on it any further. It doesn’t matter now. Bucky’s okay.

There’s a rustling of the tent flap and then, “You always did manage to find your way out of a party.”

Steve spins around at the familiar voice, quiet and carrying such fondness that Steve’s heart swells in his chest. Bucky is standing there smiling at him wryly, looking tired and filthy and perfect. Steve can only stare at him a moment, struggling with words since most of the ones he wants to say are too much, things they usually leave unsaid, things like _thank God you’re alive_ and _I missed you_ and _I love you_.

“Guess you didn’t get too dinged up then?” Steve finally settles on, forcing himself to stay right where he is, because if he lets himself move at all he’s not sure what he’ll do and, honestly, he’s a little frightened of his newly acquired strengths let loose here. Bucky, despite his weariness, looks smug as he takes a step towards him, a predatory glimmer in his eye that hasn’t changed even though Steve isn’t small enough to be looking up at him anymore. It still makes Steve shiver. 

“Nothing I won’t live through.” He shrugs nonchalantly as he comes closer, and everything’s wrong, Bucky’s eyes tilted up, Steve’s eyes cast down. It never occurred to Steve that he’d ever miss his old frame but it’s suddenly unsettling being bigger than Buck, wondering how they’ll fit together like this, when Steve just wants to hide in his best friend’s arms like he always has. Steve’s brain stutters as Bucky stops just in front of him, seemingly undeterred by their unfamiliar differences, and he mumbles Buck’s own words back at him.

“Sometimes I think you like being punched,” he breathes, hushed and sounding more serious than he intended. Bucky snorts, laughing, and he leans back, deliberately giving Steve an appreciative once over.

“That’s your thing, punk. You sure can take a few now, can’t you?” Bucky smiles at him. It falters for the briefest moment but Steve doesn’t miss it and his heart plummets. “Don’t need me lookin’ out for you anymore, Captain America.”

“Buck–” Steve starts, panic causing his heart to race, but Bucky just raises a hand and shakes his head. 

“Steve, it’s okay. I know– it’s still you in there. You–” his voice cracks a little, betraying the bravado, letting Steve know it’s really a question, even though Bucky can’t bring himself to outright ask it. “– you’ll always be my Steve, even if you’re the one saving my ass now.”

“ _Buck_ –” Steve starts again, the panic replaced by heartache that Bucky could ever doubt, but Bucky lays a finger on Steve’s lips to stop him. 

“Thank you, by the way,” he whispers, his eyes soft and voice low, serious, and then he kisses him. 

The angle might be off but Bucky’s lips are the same, the taste of him, the scent still even under days of dirt and needing a shower. It goes right to Steve’s head and he can’t think well enough to figure out how to make the kiss more familiar until Bucky slips a hand up to grasp the back of Steve’s neck and pulls him down, deepening the kiss. It’s desperate, for both their parts, and as Steve gets his arms around Bucky’s waist, it really hits him how much bigger he is, how Bucky weighs nothing to his serum-made muscles. He isn’t sure what to do with that knowledge but then the hungry moan Bucky is making into his mouth turns into a pained sound and Bucky sways, leaning into Steve as his legs weaken. 

Steve tightens his hold on Bucky to keep him up. “Bucky, this– you’ve been through– the medics cleared you?”

Bucky laughs outright as Steve moves him easily, sitting him down on the edge of Steve’s cot.

“Cleared me enough.” Bucky reaches for Steve’s shoulder as Steve crouches between his loosely open legs, one knee down in the dirt. It’s a position he’s been in before, so, so many times, but it’s new and strange, his perspective all off. If he were to lean in, his body would force Bucky’s legs open further, in a way he’s never been big enough to do, and picturing it makes want spread hotly in his veins, tight and sharp, low in his gut, his dick starting to come to attention. Steve feels the heat in his cheeks and drops his eyes. He wants Bucky so badly, but the timing, this place, his new body– 

“Steve,” Bucky’s voice is soft as he interrupts his thoughts, his hand sliding along Steve’s shoulder to move up and cup his face, tilting it not nearly as much as he used to in order to bring Steve’s eyes back up. “I’m okay. Tell me, sweetheart. Need to hear you say it. Beg me, babydoll.”

There’s something almost pained in Bucky’s voice, but there’s that old familiar tone, the one just for Steve, the one he can’t say no to – could never, would never say no to – and it’s a balm on Steve’s confused, aching, out of place heart. He sighs, melting a little, and drops the other knee to the ground, trying to get lower, smaller. He wants his face to be in Buck’s lap but he’s too tall; when he shuffles forward on his knees, Buck’s legs opening around him, his forehead drops to Bucky’s chest instead, his hands spread wide on Buck’s thighs, grasping more of him than he ever has before. 

“Missed you so damn much, Buck, please. Please, it’s been so long, I need it– need to taste you. Can I? Please?” 

Steve is nearly breathless already, his dick straining now, and he can feel himself get wet when Bucky’s fingers tighten in the hair at the nape of his neck and pull him back to look at him. Buck’s grip is weaker than it used to be, and Steve can’t help but wonder how much of that is his current condition and how much is because Steve could get free of him now without even breaking a sweat. 

There’s something almost wild in Bucky’s eyes and as Steve waits for permission, he can see plain as day how the time, miles, and danger between them has affected his lover, too. Bucky only manages to nod at him, letting go of his neck with hands that shake. Steve eagerly slides his own hands up Bucky’s thighs to attack his belt, but then Bucky’s hand fists in Steve’s shirt at his collar.

“Wait,” he rasps out. “Lose the shirt, sweetheart. Let me see you.”

Steve stills under Bucky’s dark, lust-filled gaze, and it makes him shiver before he can even get his hands on the hem of his shirt. He doesn’t take his eyes off Bucky’s as he untucks the damp, dirty cotton and tugs it up, even if it feels a little like being naked for Buck for the first time all over again, his face on fire as he tosses the clothing aside. His skin pebbles with goosebumps as the air hits it, his nipples hard from the chill and Bucky’s attention.

“Steve, oh my God,” Bucky whistles low, reaching for Steve’s chest reverently. His fingers brush Steve’s skin and then he lightly drags them down, circling one taut, perky nipple, and Steve whimpers, closing his eyes to revel in the sensation. Bucky withdraws his hand and Steve wants to protest the loss but then it’s back and Bucky is grabbing a handful of Steve’s pec, cupping it like a woman’s breast and squeezing hard as he can manage at the moment. Steve does make a pathetic, broken sound at that. 

“You got the prettiest titties I’ve ever seen,” he tells Steve fondly, voice filled with awe, and the praise makes Steve swell as though his body, giant as it is, is still too small to contain him. If he doesn’t get his mouth on Bucky soon he’s going to burst out of his skin. 

“Bucky, _please_ ,” Steve whines, pressing himself into Bucky’s hands even as he grips desperately at Bucky’s hips, begging him with the pressure in his fingertips. 

“Yeah, baby, go ahead,” Bucky lets him go, a little reluctantly, but the way Buck looks at his new body is only firing Steve up all the more, and it’s been way too long for Steve to slow down now.

He gets Bucky’s belt out of the way, unzipping his pants and reaching in. His mouth starts watering before he even gets a hand on him, and he swears he can smell Buck already but he chalks it up to desperation. They both groan when Steve’s fingers wrap around the hard, burning hot length of Bucky’s cock, and Steve is so happy to see him he swears he could cry. Back in New York, before the war, when Steve last looked up at Buck from his knees, with Bucky’s softening cock hanging out of his immaculately pressed sergeant's uniform, the moment was heavy with the too-real possibility he’d never get to do this again– would never lay eyes on Bucky again, much less hands and mouth. 

Now they’re together again, and everything’s wrong – they’re in a foreign country, war rages just outside the patrolled perimeter of their camp, mortars sound in the distance, past the temporary ruckus of the men celebrating not too far from the barely-there privacy of Steve’s canvas tent, Steve’s body not feeling like his own at all – but none of that matters. They’re together again, and Steve is still at home here on his knees in front of Buck as he ever was, and as he takes Bucky into his mouth all of it fades away. All there is is him and Bucky, and all Steve knows is the weight of Bucky’s dick cradled on his tongue, pushing at the back of his throat, making him choke. 

“ _Fuck_!” Bucky curses and he grabs for the top of Steve’s head, anchoring himself with fingers wound tightly in Steve’s hair. They both have to adjust as Steve swallows him down, both spreading their knees wider, Buck to accommodate Steve’s broad shoulders and Steve to get lower so he’s bending less. The new angle doesn’t even register once Steve finds the right place. With his lips parted around Bucky’s cock and his face pressed into Bucky’s lap as far as his open pants will allow, breathing him in, Steve is his old self again, seventeen and smaller than all the other boys in their class – smaller than a lot of the girls, too – and taking Bucky like he’s been doing it for years because he has. He knows exactly what to do to make Bucky fall apart and right now, he has no time for slow and teasing. His own need drives him as he pulls back just enough to inhale a little better through his nose, hollowing his cheeks to suck on Buck hard before relaxing his throat and finding the right rhythm, bobbing on Bucky’s dick and taking him deep like he’s dying for it. 

Bucky’s got one hand behind him, bracing himself on the cot, and the other clings to Steve, just holding on for the ride. Usually, Bucky spills all manner of foul language and dirty words when Steve is blowing him but everything about this is so intense, even for him it would seem, because he barely gets out more than moans, grunts, and broken, stuttered attempts at Steve’s name. Steve is nearly out of his mind with it, desperate for Bucky to give it up for him, that when Bucky is finally there it’s almost enough for him, too.

“ _Steve_!” Bucky cries out, high and strangled as he tries to be quiet, the only warning Steve gets before Bucky’s hips jerk and he’s coming down Steve’s throat. Steve eases off just enough so he can swallow, letting the next pulses fill his mouth, that bitter, salty flavour that’s all Bucky the only manna from the only heaven Steve cares to pray for, God forgive him. 

Steve’s own cock is iron-hard and aching, neglected where it’s trapped in his pants and leaking so obscenely there’s a wet spot in his lap, but he’d never touch himself without Buck’s say so, and he’s not ready to let go of Bucky to ask. Instead, he gently nurses at the head of Bucky’s softening cock, humming happily as Bucky pants above him, petting his head and smoothing back Steve’s hair as he catches his breath. 

“Christ almighty, baby,” Bucky sighs. “That– you– _fuck_. Get up here.”

Steve finally lets Bucky fall from his lips, and he tucks him back into his pants as he pushes up on his knees to get taller, pressing in against Bucky as close as he can get. Bucky cups his face in both hands and kisses him hard, slow but deep, tasting himself in Steve’s mouth. Steve’s dick twitches with want and when Steve eagerly sucks on Bucky’s tongue around a whimper, pressing his erection into Bucky’s thigh, Buck startles and breaks the kiss. 

“Fuck, I’m sorry. What do you want? Tell me, babydoll. Anything, darling, just tell me,” he demands against Steve’s lips, a hand snaking between them to finally touch Steve, palm pressed against the soaked material of Steve’s combats. 

“God, you got bigger everywhere,” Bucky growls, rubbing Steve through his pants, coaxing a moan from him. Steve drops his head to Bucky’s chest, so close just from getting to taste Bucky again he can’t string two words together, can only rock his hips to push against Bucky’s hand. 

“So close, aren’t you, sweetheart? Just from sucking me off, of course you are. Such a slut for my come, aren’t you, Steve?” 

Steve whines as Bucky starts to run his mouth like always, Steve’s hands fisting so hard in Buck’s shirt it’ll never wear the same way again. 

“Can’t wait to see all of you, Stevie. You always took my dick like a champ, got the best pussy, don’t you, babydoll. Now those tits of yours– fuck. Can’t wait to see how Captain America takes it,” Buck leans in, gets his mouth right at Steve’s ear, his breath hot as his teeth tease along the edge of it. “Then, once you’re fucked out and full of come, you gonna make me take this brand new big dick, Steve? Wanna fuck me with it? Pound your old man into the mattress?”

“Oh God, Buck,” Steve shudders and he can hear Bucky’s shirt tear as he comes, warm and wet against Bucky’s hand, spilling into his already soaked pants. He breathes hard and warm against Buck’s chest, and after he’s done, the last waves of his release fading away, Bucky withdraws his hand and holds him close with both arms wrapped around him, murmuring sweet things like he used to, letting Steve linger there, in all the ways they’re still them. 

“So good for me, sweetheart. Christ, I missed this– missed you. Didn’t think–” he strokes the back of Steve’s head with gentle fingers, but they hesitate a moment when Bucky almost says their greatest fear. He clears his throat and continues, pressing chaste kisses to the top of Steve’s head. “I love you, Steve.”

His voice is barely above a whisper, as though he isn’t sure he even wants Steve to hear, and Steve pulls back to look at him. He looks embarrassed, and Steve’s mouth is dry, makes it hard to swallow. It’s not like he’s never said it before, but the last time… the last time was goodbye. 

“Aw, Buck,” Steve is a mess inside, so deliriously happy to be together, to have had this again, to know they’ll get to fight side by side from now on – he'll be able to make sure they both make it home. “I love you, too.”

He leans in to kiss Bucky then, to let them move on from the words that they save for such occasions, and when they part, lips still close enough to taste one another’s breath, Steve sighs.

“I’m going to have to make an appearance, aren’t I?” 

Bucky snorts and grins at Steve, cocky like he always was whenever he told Steve he got them both dates back home. “You’re a goddamn American hero, Steve! You’re damn right you have to. There’s a cozy little pub in the town just down the road. I can think of a whole company that’ll be wanting to buy you some drinks.”

His tone is teasing but the expression on Buck’s face softens to one of such admiration that Steve has to laugh it off, looking down between their bodies, which only lets him spy the mess he’s made of his pants. 

“We’ve got to get cleaned up first,” Steve says, as if it was ever a question. “We should probably be wearing clean uniforms if we’re going into town.”

Bucky looks at him as if to say you think? before yawning. “And I need a nap. I’m beat.”

With that, he leans back and pulls his legs up to lay on Steve’s cot, giving the sad, army issue pillow a punch before tucking his arm around it and resting on it, closing his eyes. 

“You– you’re napping first?” Steve asks, thinking they would do this the other way around. 

“So are you, punk,” Bucky throws back at him, muffled by the pillow. When Steve blinks at him another moment, Bucky taps the narrow space in front of him, a clear invitation for Steve to join him. Before, Steve wouldn’t have thought twice about cuddling up close to Bucky with such limited room, but he has his doubts about the strength of the cot. Bucky opens one eye and raises his brow and Steve figures if it breaks, that’ll just be too bad. 

He hops up from his knees and slides into place in front of Bucky, who does end up shuffling back a ways as he wraps an arm around Steve’s bare waist. It feels weird, not on account of his pants where they stick to him or the fact they both still have their boots on, but because Steve is _so big_. Last time they shared a space this small, spooning on the couch in Bucky’s mom’s basement, Steve fit differently; Bucky’s chin rested on his head, and his feet rested on top of Bucky’s. Now he’s too tall and too long and Buck’s arm sits differently where it’s folded up so his hand rests on Steve’s chest. He shifts a little, unsure, tucking his hips back into Buck’s lap, the only still familiar place, even if he does fill it like he never quite did before. 

“Steve,” Bucky mumbles from behind him, giving him a squeeze.

“Yeah, Buck?” Steve asks as he finally settles. 

“We’ll get used to it. It’s fine. Just go to sleep.”

Steve smiles. Doesn’t matter how much he’s changed – they’re really still them. Bucky still loves him. Everything else will fall into place. He hums his response and threads his fingers with Bucky’s on his chest. They don’t sleep long before they have to get back out there, but it’s the best sleep Steve’s had since he had to watch Bucky walk away from him, bound for England.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! Comments and kudos are love ❤️


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